ISE: Family Visit (Part 2)

OOC: (Note: Until noted, everything is happening before the Loaded before last. As always, any like of text in Mak's color are his own thoughts.)

[/color] Travis Hey, I got your message, what’s up? I’ve been preparing against Ripp, that’s why I’ve been- Trav-Travis-TRAVIS CALM DOWN! Jeeze man, you’re making me yell out in public like a damn fool. What? Accident? Hospital? When did this happen? , are you certain? Do not play games with me right now, not this close to my match, are you POSITIVE this happened? No, I have my car, I’ll get April and we’ll get to the hospital right away.

{He hangs up and gets in his car.}

Mak: This can’t be happening, not now. Not now.

{After starting it he races out of the parking lot, his mind full of dread and suddenly fearing the worst.}
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Funny thing, life is. You let your guard down for a split second and bam; you get thrown yet another curve.

{Mak drives into another lot, not too far from where he was, where April is waiting for him with some bags in her hand, clearly not in the loop.}

April: About time you got here, you can drive so-

Mak: Get in the car, now.

April: Huh?

Mak: Something came up; we need to go to the hospital, right now!

{Enters car}

April: “Something came up?” That’s oddly vague for someone in a –

{Just then Mak speeds off before April can even fully get herself situated.}

April: JESUS, MAK! The hell’s the matter with you?!

Mak: There was an accident.

April: What kind of accident?

Mak: I don’t know, Travis didn’t say, he just told me to get to the hospital as soon as I could.

April: Well fine, but you still haven’t told me who the hell was involved?

Mak: It’s my dad.

The curveballs are supposed to be life’s way of telling you nothing’s guaranteed. They’re always keeping you on your toes.

But what happens when you get thrown one more than you can handle?

Receptionist: How can I help you?

Mak: I’m here to see my dad.

Never thought I’d say that in a million years.

Receptionist: OK, name?

April: Ronald Cross

Travis{from across the hall}: Mak! April! {He runs toward the desk.} They’re with me. Come on.

{The three rush to the waiting area closest to the section the brothers’ father is in. The E.R. As if anything good comes from there. A doctor can say a procedure was a success, but they tend to disregard the fact that sometimes, the healing process is the toughest of all to cope with. That is, if they even survive.}

{They find an isolated section (at least, as isolated as you can get in a waiting room) and sit there.}

Mak: What the hell is going on?

Travis: I’m still trying to get all the details. From what I gathered, Dad went to pick up a few things for Mom, he got into a bad crash and now we’re all here.

April: Where’s Angela?

Travis: Back at the house, I tried to get her to come, but she rushed me out. This whole thing has just been one big blur. Few days ago, he was walking around perfectly fine, now, who knows if he’s even going to make it out of the ing ER.

April: Don’t speak like that. Last thing we need is to think like that. We just need to stay positive about the whole thing.

Mak: I’m going to get some fresh air. {Leaves.}

Travis: How do you think he’s handling all of this?

April: Like he does everything else; he just stays quiet until he bursts.

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Figures this happens.

I actually talk to the man, and now his life is in danger. Funny, when I said I wanted nothing to do with him,

I wasn’t expecting an actual threat on his life.

I shouldn’t talk like that.

I mean, it’s not like we didn’t actually try to patch things up

But you become estranged for so long, it’s like I barely even know him now.

Is it my fault?

Is it his?

I wonder if I can even get answers to these questions now.

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{Mak heads back to the waiting room. Unfortunately, no news during the near-hour he stayed outside. One hour passes, then two, then three. The three go halfway insane waiting for the news. It’s so much easier to wait hours for tickets to an event or an epic release at your friendly, neighborhood store. When waiting on the fate of a loved one, you can feel the milliseconds tick down, much less everything else.}

{A doctor steps out into the waiting room, at this point, the only ones left are the Cross family. Well, there goes the mistaken family icebreaker.}

Doc: I think it’s safe to say you’re the family of Ron.

You think?

Mak: Yeah, that’s us. Just spill it doc.

Doc: Well, the procedure was a success.

Wait for it.

Doc: He’s lucky in a crash like that; he didn’t end up with worse injuries than he did, although I wouldn’t call head trauma and broken ribs a blessing.

Air bags are safe my ass.

Travis: How serious is the head trauma?

Doc: Right now, he’s in a medically induced coma, we didn’t want to take any chances.

Mak: Wait, so how was in a success if you put him in a coma?

Doc: Consider the alternative.

Guess he has something of a point. Then again, I get hit in the head for a living.

April: Any chance we can see him?

Doc: He-

Mak: Let me guess, he needs his rest right?

Doc: And judging by the looks on your faces, so do you. We have our staff on 24 hour watch for him. He’s in safe hands.

That’s exactly what they all say before it goes completely wrong.

April: I guess we should let Angela know. We haven’t gotten any good service in this entire hospital.

Travis: Yeah, she must be worried sick. Let’s go.

{They leave, but with more questions than answers. Especially Mak. Distractions are never a good thing, but which is the more distracting? Wrestling or his father?}

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{In the morning, the family returns back to the hospital, Angela included, although albeit while all physically there, Mak’s mind has been clouded with numerous thoughts. His dad, his match against Ripp in a matter of hours, his match against Trace the following week, not to the mention the news he recently received about the next Pay-Per-View not even taking place in the states, much less the continent. Can he really think about wrestling at a time like this?}

{The doctor lets them know Ronald made it through the night and has been slowly regaining consciousness, but he hasn’t fully regained complete awareness. In other words, if there’s a God, he must surely be trolling in absolute the worst way possible. That’ll sure get a few brownie points with the guy upstairs. Then again, there are worse souls.}


{Whatever the case, it’ll be another few tumultuous hours in the waiting room again, not to mention Mak’s mindset into his match-up later tonight. Of course, he doesn’t have to make it tonight.}
{Mak takes his phone out.}

Angela: Mak, what are you doing?

Mak: There is no way I’m wrestling tonight. Not with this happening.

Angela: Mak, you don’t need to do that.

Travis: Gotta go with Ma here, man.

April: If anything, you need something to take your mind off of it.

Mak: The hell am I hearing right now? Wrestling is not more important than what’s happening now. {Gets ready to call.}

April: And no one is saying otherwise. What we’re saying is, get this off of your mind for a couple hours; we’ll do enough grieving for you.

Travis: Look, I’ll even come with you. Hey, think of it like this, you can unload any stress on the poor sap you’re facing tonight.

Mak: Fine…but only because you guys say it. {Puts away phone.}

Travis: Come on, let’s get going now, just get you out of here. I’m going crazy myself. Ma and Ape got this.

April: Good luck. {Kiss}

Angela: Be safe. {Hug}

{The Cross Bros. leave the hospital.}

For some reason, everyone wants me to wrestle except myself.

Hell, it’s not like I can phone it in either; I’m facing an upstart while still undefeated.

How is that going to look if I lose before my biggest match in this damn company?

I wish it was as simple as not losing.
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- Later that night, during Loaded. In the locker room.

Mak: Any news?

Travis: Same. In and out. You know, you can still back out, your match isn’t for a while.

Mak: Ass, I’m here because you and everyone else here told me to!

Travis: Hey, no need to get pissy at me! You always did cower whenever everyone bombarded you.

Mak: Yes, because talking about my imperfections in addition to all the other crap that’s happened is definitely making things better!

Travis: Mak, I was-

Mak: You know what? Just leave me alone right now. Go, I need to get ready anyways.

{Travis puts his hands up as if he’s going “Whatever” and walks out of the locker room. Mak sighs heavily as he’s getting last minute preparations ready.}

ing Travis, always somehow making a bad thing worse.

Maybe I should… it.

I’m already here, there’s no reason to back out now.

Do this for Dad.

Do this for Dad.

Do this for Dad.

{Suddenly, a stagehand informs Mak his match is up next. He walks out the locker room, towards the Gorilla position. He and Travis exchange quick glances before Mak walks on further.}

Do this for Dad.

{He walks out to the arena where the screaming crowd blocks everything out. For now, anyways.}

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{This match only needs a short recap. Mak seemed like he had some sort of control over Ripp Jackson, certainly most in the arena would bet this would be an easy win for Mak, at worst a fairly competitive match. But the crowd couldn’t block out his thoughts enough. Thoughts one shouldn’t think when facing someone crept in every so often, breaking Mak’s concentration a few times. Then it happened. Mak gets caught by Ripp’s finisher and next thing we know, Mak Cross loses his first match in the WFWF.}

{Mak Cross rolls out of the ring after his loss to Ripp Jackson at Loaded, his first loss since debuting for the company. Visibly frustrated, he walks to the back, ignoring any fans giving him any endearment as their way of cheering him up from the loss. As he goes past the curtain into the backstage area, he sees his brother Travis, his own expressions one of frustration and simply walks right past him, his pace quickening toward the locker room area while Travis follows a considerable distance behind.}

{As he makes it into the locker room he makes a beeline for his personal locker. As he gets there he stops and stands still for a while. Suddenly, he throws the chair sitting right by him across the room towards the locker room entrance and the chair bounces off the wall closest to the entranceway just as Travis walks up to the entrance, half a second sooner and he might have been hit with the chair.}

Mak: Don’t say a damn thing smart. I’m not in the mood right now.

Travis: I don’t expect you to be. About what I said-

Mak: Don’t bother.

Travis: I just want to-

Mak: I don’t care.

Travis: -apologize.

Mak: You were always bad at listening.

{Mak opens his locker and grabs a towel and begins to wipe the sweat from his face that he accumulated in the match}

Travis: I told you to not go through with the match.

Mak: Yeah, and just days before what happened happened you were calling me a bitch for not having enough confidence in myself to your liking not to mention agreeing with Mom about me having my match!

Travis: Why the hell do you think I’m trying to apologize? Don’t act like I wasn’t apart of all the sh*t that’s happened as of late, as I recall, I was there more often than you were!

{Mak gets into Travis’ face}

Mak: You wanna go there?! You really want to?! Don’t you even ing dare try to pull this act, NOT NOW! You think I don’t feel like crap about it? Huh?! Guess what, did I not just lose my first match out there? To someone I probably had no reason losing to? being humble right now, I got caught not because he was better than me, but because Dad found yet another way to with me! What else is new?

{Mak goes back to his locker}

Mak: Get out.

Travis: Mak, I-

Mak: Get. Out. We will finish this when I get dressed.

Travis: Whatever.

{Travis leaves out of the locker room. Mak starts to tear at his wrist tape on his left wrist and starts unraveling the tape. Once he finishes he moves onto his right wrist. Midway into that he suddenly snaps again and slams his locker shut and then proceeds to bang on the door twice and kick it once before taking a deep breath, his back now to the wall and he slouches down to the floor, his head in between his knees in deep thought while his arms cover his face.}


Did I really just blame him for this?
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{To say this entire episode has been completely stressful is probably the understatement of the year. Mak’s never painted Ron in a positive light much, but this might have took the cake. While understandable Mak would be upset about losing, blaming someone who could’ve died in a crash for said loss is absolutely deplorable.}

{Mak and Travis usually drive in silence, but this silence would make a mute go off his rocker. Matter of fact, the only time Mak spoke was a simple “I’m sorry.” One can only assume what exactly he is sorry about. Flipping out? Losing? Blaming his father? Regardless, this just piles on everything that’s happening.}

- This short period happened prior to the most recent Loaded

{Mak hasn’t talked much about his first loss. Nor has anyone else brought it up. Again though, he would rather focus on the health of his father as that’s what’s more important to him. Championships are nice and all, but Mak has always been ‘family first’ about these things. Even if that family involves someone he hasn’t had the best relationship with. That being said, Ronald has been better. He’s now fully aware. Although, he and Mak haven’t gotten a chance to talk one on one much since that moment at the bench at the house. Of course, he can’t now, he’s not as lucky about this Loaded being close to his mother’s home, he had a plane to catch.}

Mak{on the phone}: Yeah, I just landed. How’s Dad been? {Chuckles} Yeah, sounds like him. Focus on my match, I’ll try. Yes, I know who I’m facing Travis, calm it. Just let everyone know I’m on the first flight back once the event’s over. Yeah, see ya. {Hangs up}

Beat Trace Demon. It’s even difficult to say, much less do it.

Should I tell him? I said it out of frustration; my mouth never did converse with my brain much before these things happen.

Still, I think he has the right to know. I shouldn’t think about that, I have a match that’s not important. More like it’ll determine where the hell my career goes after this.

{Funny how things work out, you know? Mak was definitely more prepared than last time for his match, yet he still lost. Sure, he just about tried to steal the show, but was it for him or for his dad? There’s that d-word again. Mak’s never been this bothered by his dad before, and here it is, all it takes was a medical scare and suddenly Mak feels like a child again, with his father constantly over his shoulder, whether he actually was or not.}


{Of course, you can’t just confront a bed-ridden man. Especially one whom you’ve haven’t regularly contacted in who knows how long before all of this happened.}

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- Present day

{Ronald has been released from the hospital. He’s not fully healed, but considering the guy was pretty insistent, he was able to prove he wasn’t directly dependent on the hospital staff. While it’s something of a miracle short of a medically-induced coma, he showed no complications in follow up x-rays head-wise. His ribs haven’t fully healed though, to the annoyance of everyone considering Ron makes an attempt to walk around, which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t put himself in danger almost every time he did. Despite no physical activities were recommended except breathing exercises, it’s almost like having a small child around.}


{Of course, now probably would be the best time for Mak to talk. He and April needs to tend to their own errands back in Chicago. Better now than never.}

{Knock on door}Ron: Come in.

{Walking in}Mak: Hey Dad.

Ron: Mak, what’s up?

Mak: We need to talk.

Ron{coughs, then winces from the slight pain}: About what?

Mak: Well, we haven’t really talked much, since, you know.

Ron: The crash?

Mak: Yeah. That.

Ron: It’s not a forbidden word, Mak. You can say it you know.

Mak:I’m not here to talk about my vocabulary.

Ron: Then what exactly are you here for?

Mak: I can’t just have small talk with my father?

Ron: This coming from the man who called small talk worthless?

Mak: I didn’t call it worthless, just whenever…

Ron: Whenever what?

Mak: Nothing.

Ron: Mak…

Mak: Whenever I talk to you. I’m sorry, that-

Ron: It’s OK. We were never good at this as we got older.

Mak: Can’t blame me.

Ron: Guess not.

Should I say it?

He doesn’t really have to know.

Mak: Well…I’ll go back to packing, April and I need to leave tomorrow. {Turns to leave}

Ron: Mak, wait a second. {Tries to get up}

Mak: Dad, wait, you need to sit.

Ron{winces}: I can take it. Look, obviously you’re upset about something. Whether all of this has given you a new perspective or whatever it is, it’s better to speak your mind than say nothing at all. You never know when you might miss out. Which is why I need to say this; I love you Mak, I always have, and I always will, and I’m sorry about anything negative that has happened between us these past few years. And this isn’t the meds talking; this is your father getting something off of his chest.

No, he doesn’t need to know.

Mak: Love you too Dad.

{The two hug, albeit Mak hugs a bit tighter than he should have.}

Mak: Jeeze, sorry Dad.

Ron{laughs}: Ow, if anything, that just shows your stronger than I remember. Or I’ve turned into a punk.

{They share a laugh}

It’s not that he doesn’t have the right to know, but do I have the right to tell him?
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{Mak and April come back home to Chicago after those ridiculous weeks at his mother’s. He certainly still has a lot on his plate to think about, not the least of which is a match at IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE. He deliberately ignored talking about it. Mostly because he became more situated on his father’s condition (not to mention his mother). An ill mother, an injured father, and on top of all of that, he faces David Brennan of The New Epoch and Tabitha Owens. One of the toughest guys in the company and then yet another woman who likes to mix it up with the guys. He really needs to get over that fighting girls thing}

Who thought it was cool to put me up with her? I don’t like fighting women, is it too much to ask? Its bad enough I have to fight Brennan. Speaking of Brennan, he’s an interesting case. He’s been around Drakz and Kyzer since almost as long as we’ve been in the company at the same time. I mean, nothing against the guy, he’s put on some great matches, especially against Drakz. But I can’t help but think, exactly what really brought on this alliance. I mean, Drakz and Kyzer are Drakz and Kyzer. Just the sheer mention of those two brings bad memories to those who remember them, and they’ve certainly caused some moments of their own while I’ve been here. A good portion of the locker room went nuts when each returned.

Maybe it’s because I don’t care for history, but Brennan doesn’t exactly have that same oomph. He’s been Drakz’ personal jobber in their matches, regardless of how close they may be. Quite frankly, that’s a case of “If you can’t beat them, join them” I’ve seen. Can’t blame him too much, I mean, if two of the most powerful guys in the locker room offer their services (and not judging, but from what I hear ‘services’) and assistance, not many would say no. Of course, I know all too well about falling into the temptations of the devils you know. Worst times of my life.

I don’t open up much about my wrestling career, but I guess it would be perfect to mention now. Starting out, I was just a guy desperate for a chance. I was a jobber like no other in EWWF. Jobber to the Stars extraordinaire. But like any guy who wants more, I got tired of that, so I switched up everything. My look, my personality, any and everything you could possibly fix, and so management felt to use me to revitalize the hardcore division, including giving me a chance at the Hardcore Championship. I mean, yeah, the lowest of the low title-wise, but when I won it, I treated that thing like it was better than the World Title. I got too good at holding it, and when I finally lost it, I was right back at square one.

Then, I get an offer I couldn’t refuse. I get to hang out with the World Champion’s crew. Of course, that meant me and my brother (he was with me in EWWF as well) turning our backs on the fans, but hey, bigger paycheck, better utilities, I didn’t give a damn at the time. Of course, all that gave me was a couple of tag team belt reigns and being the whipping boy even more so. So I break away.

Then, EWWF folds, CWA rises and very first show, I beat the former World Champion. That put me right in a title shot for this promotion’s title, and fastest than you say cup of coffee, CWA folds. Yeah. Just my luck, I get a real chance, and just like that, the damn company closes. I go to smaller feds and become something of a big fish in a small pond. But, that gets boring, so I left the business entirely for a couple years and now, I’m here. And dare I say I made a fair impression. Of course, now, not only am I a small fish in the biggest pond in the universe, after a semi-impressive streak of matches, I lose two straight. Needless to say, I’m under a bit of pressure here.

But am I under the same pressure Brennan is? I mean, I’m not the weak link in a group, I’m my own man. I would imagine a skinhead would know about confidence or persevering by himself, can’t say I see many of his kind roaming around as openly as he seems to do. Then again, maybe I’m just not very observant. I like my bubble I keep for myself. But what happens to you David? What happens if you lose this? Sure, if I lose, I lose three straight. If Tabitha loses, she takes a bit of a hit as well. But what about you, David? What happens if you lose while Kyzer and Drakz win, which gives them the titles, and you have a L? Hell, what if New Epoch performs the sweep? You’re still titleless. You’re still their bitch. I’m actually looking forward to the aftermath, win or lose, preferably win (myself, not you winning). It’ll feel sweet to see your reaction to me being declared the winner while you or Tabitha (preferably you) lie on the mat.

That isn’t to say Tabitha, I won’t or can’t handle you if you get in my way. Yeah, you took Kyzer to some form of a limit. Congrats, but if he gave two flying s, he probably would’ve wasted you sooner than later. I’m not the World Champion, but I’m not a pushover, Little Miss Superhero. Ask Thunder, ask David Roberts, hell, ask the two guys who beat me. Yeah, took a hit to the ego a tad losing, yeah, haven’t had the best few weeks but there is a reason my matches are nothing less than impressive win or lose.

Because despite whatever I feel, despite whatever affects me, there is always a part of me that takes this sh*t seriously. I’m not playing to a gimmick like some deluded superhero with a slow sidekick. I’m not hiding behind two guys, pretending I’m tough, despite the fact you contain all the talent to hold your own, spewing some crap about a predictable rebirth. I’m not looking to being ‘reborn’, I’m not looking to ‘saving the world’. I’m looking to beat some skulls in, because I need to set the record straight. I’m a goddamn broken record when I say this, but I am looking to prove I am one of the best this company will ever see, and if I have to damn near break mentally and physically to do it, you bet your ass I will.

I’m no stranger to triple threat matches. I’m sure none of us are. I prefer multi-man matches actually. I like the lack of odds. Not to mention, more people to beat up.

I’m considered the ‘dark horse.’ Fine. I’ll be the dark horse. Makes it that much cooler to say I beat you. I don’t care how I do it, I don’t care why I do it, I don’t care who I do it for, all things considered, I’m simply going to do it.

If you think I’m writing checks my ass can’t cash, prove it. If you think I’m talking out of line, out of my ass and whatever other analogy or metaphor, hell even bring on the similes. Prove me wrong. Shut me up.

Because at IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE. In the goddamn Tokyo Dome. By hook or ing crook. It’s. My. Time… [/center]